Mantua. A Street.
 Enter ROMEO.

Romeo	If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
	My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
	My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne,
	And all this day an unaccustomed spirit
	Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
	I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-
	Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!-
	And breathed such life with kisses in my lips
	That I revived, and was an emperor.
	Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed,
	When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

                             Enter BALTHASAR.

	News from Verona! How now, Balthasar,
	Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar?
	How doth my lady? Is my father well?
	How doth my Juliet? That I ask again,
	For nothing can be ill if she be well.

Balthasar	Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
	Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
	And her immortal part with angels lives.
	I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
	And presently took post to tell it you.
	O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
	Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Romeo	Is it e'en so? Then I defy you, stars!
	Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper,
	And hire posthorses; I will hence tonight.

Balthasar	I do beseech you, sir, have patience;
	Your looks are pale and wild and do import
	Some misadventure.

Romeo						Tush, thou art deceived.
	Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
	Hast thou no letters to me from the Friar?

Balthasar	No, my good lord.

Romeo							No matter. Get thee gone,
	And hire those horses. I'll be with thee straight.
											[Exit BALTHASAR.
	Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.
	Let's see for means. O mischief, thou art swift
	To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
	I do remember an apothecary,
	And hereabouts a' dwells, which late I noted
	In tattered weeds, with overwhelming brows,
	Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,
	Sharp misery had worn him to the bones,
	And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
	An alligator stuffed, and other skins
	Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
	A beggarly account of empty boxes,
	Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
	Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
	Were thinly scattered to make up a show.
	Noting this penury, to myself I said
	'An if a man did need a poison now,
	Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
	Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him'.
	O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
	And this same needy man must sell it me.
	As I remember, this should be the house.
	Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
	What ho! Apothecary!

                            Enter APOTHECARY.

Apothecary							Who calls so loud?

Romeo	Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
	Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have
	A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
	As will disperse itself through all the veins,
	That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
	And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
	As violently as hasty powder fired
	Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Apothecary	Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law
	Is death to any he that utters them.

Romeo	Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
	And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
	Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
	Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back,
	The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law.
	The world affords no law to make thee rich;
	Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Apothecary	My poverty, but not my will, consents.

Romeo	I pay thy poverty and not thy will.

Apothecary	Put this in any liquid thing you will,
	And drink it off, and if you had the strength
	Of twenty men it would dispatch you straight.

Romeo	There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
	Doing more murder in this loathsome world
	Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
	I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
	Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
	Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
	To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.
											[Exeunt.
